Quit Doing That, It's Spooky
by Lady Yami
Summary: Who is this pale haired prettyboy? Should I know him? He seems to have an air of fancy-ness....OSHI- In which Miyuki ponders her mortality after Wilhelm threatens it. Miyuki x Wilhelm.


Quit Doing That, It's Spooky

AN: :D And so I write another Miyuki/Wilhelm fic. Well, they've never had any interaction, you say? Never the faintest suggestion of dialogue? Well, the point is –

Uh.

I wanted to. So there. There's not enough of either of them in this fandom, it seems. I WILL REMEDY THI—

Okay I won't. But still. This is a longer one, and I tried to keep it spazzy but with more…Wilhelm….ness. A lot of scenes are just ones I wanted to write.

Reviews appreciated. Thank SyberiaWinx for nudging me into it.

X X X

A lot of people tell me I'm erratic. Unorganized, emotional, reckless, daydreaming, and actually kind of scary for someone so small. In actuality though, I carry out tasks like falling over, sleeping too much, hacking, stealing equipment, and aiding fugitives in a fairly regular order.

So I woke up this morning and had my usual latte with my usual bagel, and went to my station ten minutes early and booted up my console. While overnight status reports loaded I did my make up and made a mental list for the day's tasks. The trigger sensitivity formula for a new linegun we're working on needed to be reworked, I needed to talk to someone about that, needed to pay my water bills…hmm.

I've been doing it like this for years, now. I took a sip of coffee in the pre-working hours serenity of the lab, checking my secure e-mail and wiggling my toes. There would usually be an 'I'M ALIVE, BY THE WAY JUNIOR SAYS YOU SUCK' e-mail from Shion, a few random questions from other people in my department (Blah blah blah why was this a smoldering pile of ashes when I came in yesterday?), a silly picture from Togashi…

_'Hey Miyu-chan,_

_Thanks for the replacement PT. I'm sure Junior is really sorry for getting drunk and jettisoning the other one into space---_

_I amnot_

_Haskdjsahlasahdskajl!1oneone_

_Love NO_

_Shion_

_AND JUNIOR'_

_'Hey again Miyu,_

_Sorry about that. Forgot how strong he is for his frame. I'm kind of glad he's not as big as Gaignun…_

_-Shion'_

_'ITSUMI!_

_I AM THE GREATEST. _

_-JR'_

I choked on coffee laughing, though my heart ached a bit. I missed her. Everyone. Even surly red-haired realians. There were a few of them.

I punched my greeting back into the reply box, and then attached the third part of my program for KOS-MOS' scythe. I rewrote things off and on for her, doing my best to help from afar. Any little thing I could send to aid them made me sleep a bit better at night. Yawning and pulling a stray hair out of my eyes, I almost missed the strange flash across the screen. It flickered once, and the mouse jerked a bit.

Huh? Naw, I'm sleepy…or the displayer is just getting a little tired. Yeah. We've had these ones for years, they DO burn out eventually. Togashi's jovial "Good morning!" interrupted my thoughts, and I turned to greet him.

The rest of my department trickled in for the daily grind and I carried on as usual, random sound effects and fire included. At no additional cost!

I wandered home around five, waving goodbye to Togashi and humming anime theme songs.

I pulled out my mobile as I rounded the corner to my living block, punching a coworker's birthday into my calendar so I wouldn't forget (again), and was neatly slammed with a block of frigid air.

The cold burnt as it slid down my throat, and I squinted against the tears streaking down the corners of my eyes. I stepped back, for fear of an open hatch. Wait, there were no hatches in the living quarters. What the hell?

Tentatively stepping forwards, I folded my arms and peeked around the corner. Nobody was there. If something had knocked a hole in the ship, there would be alarms and general chaos. It was perfectly calm.

There was a hush to the air now, an almost orchestrated stillness. For reasons unknown, panic bloomed in my chest, and I felt almost the same exaggerated tension that came with playing horror survival games. There was something else here. What was it?

Actually, I found out about two seconds later when a voice caused me to tip over. See? I told you I fall at least once a day. Aiding fugitives is already done, so is oversleeping.

"Miss Itsumi," I heard as someone caught me swiftly around the waist then released me just as quickly. I turned, pink with embarrassment.

"Uh, thanks!" I chirped. There was a white haired man in a suit standing behind me, fine pale face a mask of indifference. His garnet eyes regarded me very lightly, catching the lights of the walkway and reflecting the fact that I looked more idiotic and scruffy than usual.

Wait. Wasn't he important? Who was he? It was nagging me.

"And you're alright?" The business-type-dude-guy asked me, and realized I knew his voice. I nodded yes.

It was a voice that had yelled at me before. Not yelled. But spoken to. Extremely sternly. I knew this voice…uh…

I didn't say anything in response because I was too busy daydreaming (another daily task completed), so he just carried on and pretended I was a sane person. Nice of him. Really.

"The homeostasis mechanism for this sector scrambled for some reason," he explained fluidly, striding ahead of me and waving me along with one hand. "Maintenance hasn't been able to stabilize it, so I came down here myself to figure it out."

"It's a good thing the oxygen and gravity stayed stable."

"They're on backup right now, but that's why I'm down here." He said as we neared the control booth, where he took a keycard out of his inside pocket and slid it. I'd never seen one like his before. It was silver and black. Even the chief's was coded green like her department. Mine was red. "I don't want it to escalate, or get anyone hurt."

"T-that's nice of you, to take time out of your busy schedule," I said congenially, hoping to continue this façade of normalcy.

He smiled slightly, and I now realized his face was so smooth and perfect he looked like a porcelain doll. It was almost uncanny, like he shouldn't be able to move. Just…_unnatural. _Trying to vanquish the highly unexpected heebie-jeebies, I focused on doing my job.

The display screen hummed to life, assaulting our eyes with a hectic flash of red and fast scrolling numbers. His delicate-looking fingers moved swiftly across the screen, and within seconds half the charts had evened out. Huh. A senior engineer, maybe? He _is _kinda fancy-seeming. I scratched my bum while he was gazing off. Carrying on.

I ran through a mental list of major engineer and department heads in my mind, trying to match his face to a name. Robertson? No, he had a lisp. Elliot? Nope, that was a chick. Not like this guy couldn't successfully pretend. His eyelashes were silvery white, and so long they were visible even though his face was mostly turned away from me. Arizawa? Nope. Slovac? Nope. Jones….nope.

I stood there for a moment after, feeling more foolish than usual. Who is this man? I've been with the company for almost my entire adult life, lived here! You'd think I'd know. Frustrated now, I let my eyes refocus on the comforting and logical string of algorithms and streaming numbers. Oh. I see what's wrong. Half entranced and mostly out of habit, I reached forwards and put my fingers to the display pad, letting my brain shift gears to work mode. I go into a strange state when I'm programming. It was due to that weird euphoria that I started in this field in the first place.

I wanted to make cakes, you know. Now I make bombs.

Strangely fitting. Anyway. I stepped back, took a deep breath, yawned, and then remembered he was still there. Oops.

My shoulder was pressed up against his forearm. I'm short, okay? He's not very tall, but I'm still short. Ack! I jumped back.

"S-sorry, I get kind of weird when I program." I admitted, after realizing I wasn't being normal. I was about to launch into some speech that would basically be a roundabout way of saying 'PLEASE DON'T' FIRE ME', but he interrupted me by exiting out of the calibration screen and pocketing his keycard.

"Miss Itsumi," he smiled as he turned to face me, eyes locking onto mine. "You leave a very unique signature on your algorithms."

Huh?

"Huh?"

I'm eloquent, right?

"You have a very esoteric way of almost tricking the machine into doing what you want it to. You coax, rather than command."

"I…I don't think I understand." I said truthfully. I better not lie and let him realize how dense I really am. That could be disastrous. I strode behind him uncertainly, not entirely sure what I should have said or done. I felt like I failed some little test.

"I realized something, when I saw you code just now."

"Sir?"

"I've seen it before. More so recently."

He personally looks over my calibrations? Yeesh. That's all I need, is some senior snooping around. Scary. Vector is scary, with what I know now. I'd be long gone if I didn't think I could help by staying here. Mr. Marble looked pensive.

"Well, I have been working on that line gun for—"

"No. It wasn't a line gun it was…" He stopped in front of the door to my room. "Ah, I seem to have lost track. This is your dwelling, correct?"

"Yeah." I answered, trying to keep the trembling out of my voice. He knew, didn't he? Oh god. Oh, I'm going to be arrested. Fired. Interrogated. Then everything will go all monochrome-y and scary and—

We stood awkwardly for a second in front of my door. Well I did, he just gazed at my nameplate, rubbing his chin, before turning the full force of his crimson gaze on me. I supplied an exaggerated yawn.

"Long day, Miss?"

"Yeah, I think my fingers have gone numb." Yeah. I've gone numb alright. From fear. I wanted to talk to Shion right now, but I knew it'd probably be a predictable move, if this guy was really onto me.

"You're very pale, too, Miss Itsumi."

"I should sleep more! I'm usually up late doing stuff- PERFECTLY MORAL, LEGAL, STUFF."

"I see," he continued, like I hadn't just turned red and screamed. "Well. I'll count on your continued excellence." Dark eyes glittered with some sort of satisfied knowledge. There was no malice, just confidence. He stood just barely in front of my doorway, so if I were to step into it I'd brush him just enough to be rude. He knew what he was doing. In any other circumstance I would have made an excuse like my elderly grandmother being in there (on fire), and rushed in but—

I was metaphorically pinned now, blood screaming through my ears. He was looking at me now, _looking _at me. _This is something that's happened to you before_, some small voice said, _in a previous life_. _You're fragile_, it cautioned, _you've had many._

Humans must surmount many hurdles they are born with. Your own mortality, your own weakness – and _this thing_. A single yet somehow multifaceted entity that all of us billions and billions of blundering mortals face at least once. _It_ makes a point of it. It passes each and over soul at least once, looks at them, sizes them up, and dismisses them to fade back into the abyss. A fathomless threat born of darkness before even the suns brightened the void and mortals looked up with stars in their eyes.

He smiled, and it met his scintillating eyes. You look into the abyss, it looks back. The silence settled and waited.

I'm cold.

Blinking rapidly, I seemingly drew my soul back into my body. Full lips pursed in thought momentarily, and he tilted his head, plume of cloud-white hair catching in the fluorescent lights of the hallway. But I'm over reacting. He's an engineer. A prettyboy in a suit. Some guy that will marry a supermodel because he's a department head in Vector then cheat on her or whatever then have a messy divorce. I'll see him later under the stairs of the lobby doing drugs and making macaroni pictures of his poodle, Margulis. He'll have custody battles over his weirdly named celebrity children. Names like Fruitass and Gailradia Gardios. I will eat pocky and watch news of his social demise with smugness in knowing that the universe paid me back for my brief existentialist crisis. Right. My own imagination wasn't as reassuring as usual, sadly.

None the less, I now wasn't lying when I told him I was drained.

"Anything I can do for ya…" I offered as he turned to leave, surprising myself with how naturally the words came out. I yearned for my room, food, bright lights, and the smells of clean laundry and my favorite body spray.

"I'll call, of course." His muted voice sent a shiver down my spine, and the logical side of my engineer's mind thrashed itself for reacting in such a melodramatic manner.

He was gone, and I rushed into my room and rolled around on my bed screaming for a little bit. Then I realized I had left my door open and had to convince a crowd of concerned people that I wasn't on fire.

After some alcohol, a good nap, calling Togashi crying, and Shion sending me a video of MOMO and Jr. asleep on a couch together, I was soothed enough to sleep. I dreamt of Jin Uzuki and I cleaning out his attic together and finding a bunch of dead hookers.

I woke up for work in good spirits, set on shoving last night's possible danger and random internal spiritual monologue (I'm just gonna call it a SOULSPAZ) behind me and concentrating on my work. So essentially I just sang "LA LA LA LA, MOMO'S BLOOMERS" over and over in my brain and hit random keys. Luckily nobody noticed.

It was towards the afternoon when I got the e-mail.

_'Dear Miss Itsumi._

_Recent events have led me to believe you are involved with aiding fugitives in the destruction, theft, and general acts of terrorism towards Vector Industries property. While punitive actions and formal subpoenas have not been issued, please note this is a very serious offense and it will be continuously analyzed. I would like to meet you in person very soon regarding this situation. Of course, no actions will be taken against you until proven guilty. Your quiet and swift compliance will make this much easier for the both of us._

_Sincerely,_

_Wilhelm_

_CEO, Vector Industries'_

The room reeled for a second. My bagel threatened to rise up from my stomach like an angry pastry zombie and devour Togashi, who happened to wander over. Wilhelm! Wilhelm himself!

"Miyuki?" He asked quietly. My knuckles were white against the workstation. I exited it quickly, standing fast and dragging my knuckles along the table's edge, wincing as pain bloomed across my hand. I raced out of the office wordlessly, almost deaf to the fretful calls behind me.

I ran into the bathroom where I sat on a nearby toilet, put down the seat, and pulled my knees up to my face so I could calm the shaking. Alright, think Miyu-pii, think.

I counted backwards from one hundred and stepped out of the stall, just as a woman from my section came to check on me. I told her I was sick and going back to my quarters, she agreed and wished me well, then returned to tell everyone. Togashi would know better, I would mail him later.

I went home and undressed half in a daze, pulling a t-shirt on over my panties and collapsing into a dreamless sleep. I woke some two hours later in the gentle blue darkness of my room and showered, dressed, then wandered through the ship. Even if I tried to escape now, I doubt I could make it far before someone caught up to me. Escape attempts just spell guilt. Especially since you know…I'm actually guilty.

Where was his office again? It wasn't too late, right? A janitor told me he heard classical music streaming from the door when he waxed the floors every night at two.

I pulled out my mobile opening the encrypted e-mail he had sent it to. I could feign innocent, pretend I never opened it. He knew now though. He was right. I better just go. I'm sure everyone could break me out of jail! It'll be super exciting.

Wait, why was I just briefly happy about the prospect of a prison break?

…Never mind. I took a deep breath and messaged Shion. I stood at the balcony and looked down into the center of the Dammerung, several hundred stories down in fact. Gripping the rail, I looked skywards, and asked anybody for a little help. Any sort of divine figure. Anybody.

Anybody I haven't pissed off? The elevator arrived, and I got on, moving upwards.

I read the doom-tastic e-mail twice over, then opened the reply box. I had barely started to type my response when the elevator dinged and stopped, and the doors swished open. Somehow, I only half-surprised to hear the pale-haired engineer from before.

"Good evening, Miss Itsumi," I heard, eyes frozen to my mobile, unable to look at his face.

I was too tired to be scared. I took a deep breath to respond when the doors swished open again, and there was a lot of clanking and the smell of cleaners.

The janitor. That's right. Wilhelm wouldn't let cleaning droids into his floor for fear of…spies or something silly. Rumors, rumors. I shoved my mobile in my little purse hanging from my shoulder, tucking it behind my waist and trying to look inconspicuous.

He nodded his greeting at me. "Evening, Miss Miyuki."

"H-hi Sam. How are you?"

"Well…I'm a janitor."

"…Yeah that summarizes things, doesn't it?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Fancy staring at the janitor. Aha! He must have been sent by Wilhelm! That old fart must be a billionaire – of course he'd have minions!

EVIL ONES. Perhaps even color coded per day of the week and/or craziness! The janitor saved me. I can just run straight into Wilhelm's offi—wait. My apprehension came back to crush me. Between a rock and a hard place…

Still. I could hug the janitor. He had angel wings and a halo in my mind's eye. I could cry. Even if he looked like a level three sex offender and smelled like floor wax and booze.

It's a bad combination, by the way.

Either way, I was still sort of in a lot of trouble. Like, doomed. Too soon, the janitor left, and I was alone again with what my subconscious tried to tell me was some ancient being of fear. This is a knowledge you're born with. Fire is hot, the sky is blue – and hey watch out for this thing.

_He can be kind, too. Ever so gentle, in fact. _

…Okay, I really wish my brain would stop doing that.

I looked up. Three floors to go. I forgot how big the ship is. "What kind of person is Wilhelm?" My own voice surprised me. My fingers shook, scrunched in the folds of my clothes. What had I even dressed myself in? Thankfully, I had managed to remember pants. Khakis and a red sweater. Okay, no polka dots. What was I missing? Huh…

"What is Wilhelm like?" His amused voice echoed, and I turned to look him in the eye as the doors swished open to a sprawling black office, lit blue and silver from starlight streaming through the massive windows. He turned to me, lovely face concerned. "…You're sure you're alright, Miss Itsumi? No…crazy notions in your head?"

Huh? He strode past me, footsteps clicking lightly. Oh, fancy shoes for fancy people. I wiggled my toes.

Oh. I looked down and counted ten little red-painted toenails before I realized I had forgotten my shoes.

Oh, God, WHY? WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY-

"Miss Itsumi." The man settled down behind the desk. Music tinkled gently from speakers high above. Something cultured, I'm sure. The Leekspin song began to blare in my head at that exact moment. Thanks for that one, Togashi.

Was he warming the seat for Wilhelm? It was his job to let even his cute little butt prepare seats for his evil overlord? And why did I forget my shoes? Aren't I a FANCY PANTS ENGINEER as well?

"You received the mail I sent you, I take it. Unless you're just here to visit me." He laughed lightly. "That'd be okay, too. I could use the company."

…

You…aren't serious…I must have looked panic stricken, because he smiled very kindly at me, hair bright against the stars. "Miss Itsumi, I won't hurt you. Nobody else knows. I just want to know _why._" What! How? He looks my age! HEY. Shut the fuck up guy, I'm trying to figure out how YOU'RE Wilhelm!

He knew, I had a feeling. But aside from that. I scratched my butt and made weird comments in front of _Wilhelm. _Brushed him aside. Rubbed against him—Okay that was more of an accident but still.

My fists shook at my sides, panic seizing up my lungs. "Sit?" He gestured to the chair in front of his desk, garnet eyes quiet. I shook my head no, taking a step backwards. My bare feet slapped against the floor. He stood, very slowly, pale hands slightly raised. "I won't hurt you, Miyuki."

"Hurt me?" In my bag, my phone stared ringing.

"I came down to get you myself…Unpredictable creatures, at times." He took a few steps closer to me. Wait, what? I'm so confused. What was I doing before I came here? Nap, got dressed, waited for elevat—

On a balcony. Without my shoes on.

Wow. He really thinks I'm going to kill myself? I didn't think he was dumb. Is this another test? I would laugh if I wasn't terrified. My phone stopped ringing, then immediately started again. I could hear the _bling bling bling _of mails being received. Well. I have two options. I can peaceably tell him I'm about as sane as I'll ever be, and look forwards to my dramatic prison break or—

"I don't want to get raped in prison! I want my room and my friends and my porn!" I cried, and turned to dash out the door dramatically.

As I predicted he caught me instantly, grabbing me around the waist. I felt the familiar abyss wash over me, and again some very deep voice told me to behave myself. His breath danced just above the back of my neck, true to his small stature. I looked up into his eyes.

"What ARE you?"

He smiled again, sweetly, full lips closed over what I'm sure were shiny teeth. "Were you almost anyone else, darling child, I would not hesitate to destroy you, for all the problems you cause me."

Silently, I continued to gaze up into his eyes, contentedly sinking into the wine-colored oblivion of them. "But you've helped me, too. The weapons you design for your friends are lovely indeed."

Gulp.

"Always in the background, twice as important as even the sopranos center stage. It's a brave effort, as always. Epitome of human spirit, Miyuki Itsumi."

I worked up the courage to glare, and then regretted it when it seemed to cause a surge of emotion in him, as he pulled me closer and cupped his hand around my upturned chin, pushing his cool face against my cheek.

"Have you ever heard of _Der Ring des Nibelungen_? The Rhine Maiden is such a namesake. There were three of them, lovely water sprites, and while almost never onstage, they were there from the very genesis to when the valkyrie's ashes granted the very last wish."

Like I know about ancient theater. My brain slugged through high school. Most of my high school years involved eating cupcakes behind my textbooks and breaking school computers. But I wasn't going to say that aloud. I saw my own confusion reflected in his eyes. His breath flowed across my lips as he spoke, warm and sweet.

"That little face…you'd make a lovely Flosshilde…" I felt heat spread across my cheeks. His thumb ran gently over my bottom lip. Wait, could I flirt my way out of this? No. He picked up the hand I had grazed on the table earlier, kissing it gently. "Strong minds, delicate bodies…" My phone started ringing again, and he released me. I stumbled back weakly, still unsure of how this was going to turn out. We stood facing each other, me shaking and now severely girly, and him looking like a young god, handsome face neutral. Judge, jury, executioner – music critic.

"Miss Itsumi-"

"Miyuki."

"Miyuki. What shall we do, you and I?"

I opened my purse and silenced my mobile, then wiggling my toes, I took a deep breath and stepped up to him.

"First…things first…" I started, glaring up at him.

"Yes?"

I grabbed his cheeks and pulled as hard as possible. "QUIT STARING INTO MY SOUL, IT'S FUCKING SPOOKY."

AN: It's really hard not to make Wilhelm OOC. But anything involving Wilhelm in a romantic light is OOC. It drags on and I apologize for that. May continue, may not. Reviews are love. Or flames. Nomnomnom.


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